


Words Unspoken

by Of Elves and Wolves (Only2morrow)



Series: Ella Lavellan [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Feels, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:59:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only2morrow/pseuds/Of%20Elves%20and%20Wolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas sits beginning to put ink to paper to tell Lavellan words that remained unsaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Unspoken

Even with the bustling of the elven scouts outside his door, the noise seemed to fade away in to the cold distance and away from Solas’ pointed ears.

How many times had he sat here before? Each time staring at the leather-bound journal laying upon the mahogany of his desk. Each time capturing words like raindrops only to pause before putting ink upon the page.

What was left between them that had not been said? That he ached for the simple spray of her hair over his chest? That soft scent of embrium and honey that permeated her form haunted his dreams? Of the impossible pain that accompanied his every step without her next to his side?

What would that accomplish?

No. It was a selfish notion. The demand of a balm crafted to sooth an ache of a breaking heart. Such things would only bring pain. Another reminder of his lapse in judgement. Of the grave mistake of allowing his heart to blossom into feeling.

His crafted words upon the parchment would only bring hope to her mind, in a moment so desperate in its lack. Hope for a future that was doomed from their first faded kiss with in the depths of a dream.

And yet.

The thought of her hand smoothing over the shared written parchment warmed the room more than any flame could. Would she smile with the brightness of a sunny day? Would his heartfelt words sooth the agony of her eyes as he abandoned her yet again?

Or would only tears rain upon her bare cheeks?

His hand steadied as he laid the pen back upon the desk, his momentary weakness for the touch of her skin hardening under the thought of her pain. Just as so many times before armored fingers closed the leather journal before even a word could be written.

He could not open that wound yet again. No matter how he wished it.

Even so.

Had he not done so in dreams? He filled his aches with glimpses of his heart. She moved with awareness, of stealing moments of her own. Perhaps voicing his desire would not cut like a knife. Perhaps-

“Sir?” the scout opened the door, “It seems you have received a letter.”


End file.
